I Told You To Wait

Chapter 2

Chris wakes up with paint plastered all over her face and an alarm beeping without restraint. 'That's the last time I say 20 more minutes then I'll go to bed'. She looks over at her desk to find dried pink paint everywhere except on the one place it should be, her canvas. She rushes to silent her phone and sees a text from Shayne.

Goof x: Hey babe, I can't pick you up today, see you after school?

Chris: That's okay! After school it is xx

'He never ditches tho, something probably came up.' She hops in the shower scrubbing away at the paint with the little time she has. It almost stings as she steps into the cool air and throws on some comfy clothes. As she runs upstairs to the kitchen she slips and falls brutally with nothing to break her fall and stop her from hurting her wrist, dull aches coursed through her entire arm when she tried to stand up. Unbelievable, she's walked and ran these stairs more than she's breathed, it just HAD to be on the day she has to walk to school. Flinching at the slightest pressure she sat back on the stairs.

There's no time for playing nurse, she stuck her arm in the pouch of the hoodie and pushed towards the kitchen grabbing an apple as she headed out. Her dad still wasn't home for her to say good morning but he works his ass off to support them so she wasn't too mad that they weren't your typical "All American Family" with hearty breakfasts served by a loving mother and a hard-working father reading the newspaper at the head of the table. You know those types of retro pictures from the 50's spewing some perfect family propaganda.

Making sure the front door is locked behind her, she takes a peek from the window at the side of the house to find her mom still passed out in the same position as last night. She wasn't always like this, believe it or not, there was actually a time she came close to the "All American Mother", but that ended a few years back and Chris never held her breath to see her mom pick it up again. They never fought despite their clear lack of interest in each other, her parents were always civil or just didn't speak. Sometimes that would last for weeks and her dad would take her camping for a bit over those weekends. She knew her parents couldn't afford to split up.

Taking a deep breath she turned around and marched onto the sidewalk, careful not to get any mud on the shoes she got for her 18th a few weeks back, shoes she painted on of course. Her dad bought her new paint with the shoes and told her to go crazy, in his terms crazy was black with only one other color.

She didn't live in a bad part of town but it wasn't the best either. The power lines hung low to the street with well-kept, small, privately owned businesses bordering the rather lonely street. The occasional stare coming from one of maybe three trucks of the day passing her, even in a hoodie and sweatpants men found ways to sexualize her. She grunted in disgust, 'men', always knowing how to ruin a woman's day because they have all this "power", driving a beat-up truck with red paint chipped off worse than a housekeeper's 5-month-old manicure. The way they compensate for their tiny, you know, with "extreme" wannabe sports cars with clearly not enough horsepower but it sure as hell revs like Nascar or Formula1 R-class. Despite the one whistle she got from the low-hanging ponytail critter, she enjoyed walking to school, she forgot how good it felt. Letting her mind wander and releasing all her pent-up thoughts was better than therapy, she'd know this cus she's been in therapy, a shit show and a half. She soaked up the early morning sunlight hitting her face as she peacefully walked.

The cool morning breeze greeting her cheeks and tickling her nose. The windows from the apartments above all these tiny businesses are open to bystanders, allowing her to catch a glimpse into their lives, their own personal issues or victories. Walking past she sometimes imagines herself owning a tiny business on this block, selling all types of her artwork, and maybe even opening up a tiny coffee shop while she's at it, God knows this neighborhood needs a good one. Turning a corner approaching the basketball courts, she noticed something so odd even she couldn't grasp it;